


Just above me, dangling blade.

by MrscursHere



Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26797321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrscursHere/pseuds/MrscursHere
Summary: Its just a mirror. Its just an image. In front of me, the person I am, staring back at me. Is he grinning in mirth, or screaming for help. I'll never know, unless I try.
Relationships: Damien Haas/Shayne Topp
Kudos: 14





	Just above me, dangling blade.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings
> 
> Cutting (he didn't actually do it, but was tempted)  
> Insecurity.  
> Consideration of self harm.  
> Description of blood.  
> Blades  
> Matt Raub being a dic-  
> Body dysmorphia.  
> Panic attacks.
> 
> (I'm not trying to make fun of Damien or Shayne, nor taking the fact that Damiens going through a rough time as a writing prompt. Please, do not harm yourself. It does more harm than good. ((Virtual hugs even though I don't like hugs.)) Please take care of yourself. This is more to give awareness to a serious topic with two fabulous individuals.)

It's just a mirror.

Damien could say that. All in all, Damien could say lots of things, as everyone knew. His hand was fidgeting, restless atop the sink as the water ran cold because he forget to turn the faucet. Damien could play off anything, say anything to drive a situation forward. He was the master of conversation and the ruler of persuasion.

Yet, he still stood there, his reflection lifting in a smile.

The water burned under his still bandaged hand, only the thumb being ruined but the rest covered in over consideration. The worn bandage was tossed reckless in the direction of his trash can, and Damien looked down, just for a second. He stretched his aching fingers, arching each one, a bubbling feeling in Damiens throat.

It could be the diet coke, still sitting innocently by his stand of equipment that his arms still hurt from carrying. But he felt a nervous, almost nauseous feeling rise in the pit of his stomach.

The water, ice cold now, was still running. Damien hadn't thought to turn it off. He washed his hands again without thinking, tearing the skin just anough to leave stripes of red in their place. Maybe he was just giving another reason to apply another bandage? Or maybe...?

The man in the mirror watched him, accused him, yet still held that same expression. Drilling his hands into the sink, Damiens face gave little to his thoughts. His eyes, portrayed so easily, blinked with an almost venomous ease. Who even hired this actor to play him?

Damien, well informed enough to know that he was freaking out, shut off the lights. The sparkle in his eyes dimmed out, merely a reflection of some stupid electronic spark. Reflection. He knew all about that. Remembered Raubs hidden looks in his direction, noting the crookedness of his collar, his flat hair, his too round head.

Damien should know that he should calm himself down. He knew that he should leave his bathroom, maybe read one of Shaynes endless book recommendations. But the words wouldn't reach him, and his feet wouldn't budge.

He blinked, and the actor did the same. And he could feel himself mumbling, fumbling with the drawers to find something, anything.

He lifted his hand, and gripped tightly was a blade. How had Damien forgotten of his blade? He kept it here, safely put away, in case there was an intruder...yet. There was so much more potential than that.

What did he say? What did he do? What did he deserve?

Damien blew a breath across his fingers, finally taking notice of the sting, and stood back. The actor drew back as well. He could make out curves, lines and shape in the shadows. Little details. But it was enough of a show for him to understand. And the thoughts came back, ringing enough for Damien to groan and look down at the tiled floor. Still, the actor showed through. 

'Its just a mirror. Just an image. In front of me. The person I am,  
staring back at me. Is he grining in mirth, or screaming for help? I'll never know, unless I try. Unless I try what he said.'

'I know that I'll do it again, do it again. That is partly what he said.'

Its like smoking, you let yourself choke. And it stings your tongue, and he's told it feels like your floating. And, you'll never be done with it, cause you say that you'll stop, but you'll always get more.

Did he want that. No, could Damien afford to do that that.

A minute passed.

Then two.

The blade felt cold in his hand. Damien hadn't eaten yet, because he bet he couldn't swallow even if he wanted to try.

He sputtered, the blade falling from his still bleeding hands. He didn't know whether he fell from overwhelmed emotions or blood loss, but it didn't matter. The blade was right there, just above him. At least the actor had kept his distance, yet the blade was dancing or something like it.

Damien loosly grabbed his phome from his pocket. He's busy, and Damien knows that, but his name was the only thing keeping him from loosing it. The phone dialed twice before he picked up.

\---

Shayne blinked, his phone opening with the bright happy face of his best friend. Damien had called off, expressing that he needed to stay back because of some stuff he'd liked to settle at his new apartment. Shayne could understand that, but didn't miss the way Raub rolled his eyes at the request.

Cutting Keith off with a smile, Shayne stood and answered, not missing a beat as he strolled into a nearby empty room. "How are we doing, Damien?" He slid the door shut behind him for a sliver of privacy, settling himself in a leaning position against the wall. He could he hear his co workers continue the conversation without him. "Damien?"

There was another pause, which worried Shayne more than he would admit, before he heard Damien on the other end. "I-I know this sounds unlike me, but can you drop by my place? Now?"

Shayne didn't miss the tremble of Damiens word, walking out and grabbing his coat, recieving confused looks from his friends. "I will." He managed to zip himself with one hand, all eyes on him, "Stay calm for me."

There was a moment of mumblimg words, where Shayne desperately tried to hide his panic, before they cut off the line.

"I-I need to go, can you-I don't."

"Go Shayne." Ryan nodded in his direction, and in a blink he was gone, his papers still sitting in a neat stack by Courtney's leg.

\---

The carride was easy. You just run on autopilot, settling yourself behind the wheel and remembering that instruction manual you don't remember reading

So easy. Shayne glanced at the seat beside him, worry making his thoughts juggle fast than his hands can catch. He's fine, Shayne didn't realize he was talking to himself till later on, he called you, asking to come over. 

Maybe he was tired, needed help moving boxes, needed a sturdy hand that can lift. Maybe scared and needed reassurance about what to do, a direction of voice. Maybe he was just...sad.

Excuses. Thats all it was. Shayne pulled a sharp turn, cursing himself under his breath. The traffic was mild, he wished the world would speed up, just for now. But it didn't slow, and Shaynes car was amongst thousands, all writhing for a place to go. 

\---

Damien and Shayne sat knee to knee on the sofa. The coke lay splattered on the coffee table, the lights dimmed slightly. Hands carefully applied bandages, and the room was quiet, except for the mate sound of passersby from outside his apartment. Something about the way Shayne was moving and breathing made Damien less ample to speak his mind.

He could do this himself, he had the skills. A few scratches, really, could be cleaned up in not time if Shayne would just let go. But he didn't, and Damien wasn't in a good enough headspace to try.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it y'all. See you later.
> 
> Have a nice time my gals guys and fellow noctural nonbinary friends.


End file.
